AN: We're coming up to a thing. And if you can't guess what that thing is I'll be super surprised. It's not too subtle here.

Disclaimer:

I own nothing you recognise. This is all completely un-beta'd and totally fresh off the top of my brain!


Rose is on her feet before she is conscious. A sense of unease, so close to fear, trickles down her spine. She sees flashes, feels hair brush past her fingertips, inhales a sweet perfume.

There is no one here. It is only Rose, and her mind, and gold dust trickling from her palms, her wrists, her eyes.

In the corner of her mind she sees red and green and so much blood. Lifeblood.

She shakes herself as a dog would throw off water and puts on some slippers. Shoves clothes into a bag. Leaves her apartment and walks the two blocks to Clint's. Streetlights dance off golden irises. Elongate shadows beneath her feet. She lets herself in. Grabs two of his granny square throws and curls up on his sofa.

To the sound of Clint's almost-but-not-quite snoring, Rose falls asleep.


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